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"It's Yellowfang." Sagewhisker looked up, her eyes boring into her apprentice. The other medicine cats gathered, eyeing her with an interest she'd never seen before. "Yellowfang is the next carrier."
"Carrier?" Her voice broke. "But... I've only just become your apprentice!"
"StarClan have chosen you," Milkfur said. "You can't deny StarClan."
Her eyes rounded, discomfort creeping up her spine. She had left the life of a warrior reluctantly, only to fall into the claws of destiny again. Was this what StarClan wanted?
"It will be okay," Sagewhisker assured her, sweeping her tail over her back to smooth it. "StarClan will protect you and your kits. Just as they protected those who have come before you."
"Who... Who was the last carrier?"
"The last carrier was Milkfur."
Yellowfang looked over at the RiverClan medicine cat. "Who were your kits?"
"I carried Brambleberry and Featherwhisker," Milkfur answered.
"But... I chose to be a medicine cat. So did Hawkheart. Why does any cat need to carry more?"
They were silent.
After a pause, Milkfur broke in: "It is StarClan's will. That is all we know. You cannot refuse them, Yellowfang."
Her head swung side to side, weighing up her options. If this was her destiny, she was going to take as much control over it as possible. "Do I choose my mate?"
"You may choose only a cat who is already a medicine cat or a Clanmate. But you must remember: your kits will leave you."
She bowed her head. She knew who to choose.
"You want to have kits?" Raggedpelt snarled. "Now? You gave up on me when you became a medicine cat!"
"Being a medicine cat is my destiny. StarClan decided that, not me!" she hissed back. "Now they've chosen me to carry the next kits to become new medicine cats."
"That has nothing to do with me. I'd sooner have kits with Foxheart."
"But I'm choosing you." She pressed forwards, brushing her muzzle through his thick fur. "I wouldn't choose anyone but you."
"A medicine cat can't have a mate. You told me that. Remember?" Yet his anger had chilled, as though he were considering it.
"It's true. But StarClan wants me to have kits one way or another. They can't deny me this when it's their choice for me to carry kits." Yellowfang gazed at him imploringly. "Raggedpelt... I love you. Please."
"Tell me why. Why me?" He rubbed her cheek with his. It was a test.
"You're the only cat I've ever loved. The only cat I will ever love."
"But why me?"
She pressed closer, taking in his scent. "You're the strongest warrior in ShadowClan, maybe even all the Clans. You'll be the next leader, bringing ShadowClan victory after victory. Any she-cat would be honoured to mate with you."
He broke away from her, circling her body, rubbing his scent into her fur. "Would you be honoured?"
"Yes," she breathed, presenting herself. "I love you."
He didn't love her. That was clear in no time at all, yet she couldn't find herself caring. She had everything she wanted: cats to care for, a mentor to look up to, tasks she excelled at, the approval of StarClan, and a mate she wouldn't swap for all the mouse-tails in the forest.
She would, however, swap his questions of kits in a heartbeat. Even for a lizard's tail.
"So they'll all be medicine cats," Raggedpelt meowed. "Even if there's more than four?"
"Five kits?" she purred. "Do you know how rare it is for a large litter to live to apprenticeship?"
His ears folded back. "Shut up. I'm just saying - if we did, we could keep one. The strongest, of course. He'd be best suited for life as a warrior."
"That's not how kits work," she meowed. "Raggedpelt--"
But he'd already stalked away.
Such branches of questions came as frequently as the hunting patrols in greenleaf.
"The Clans will know that they're my kits?"
"I don't know."
"They should. Then all the Clans will know how strong my offspring are." He puffed out his chest.
"I'll ask," she murmured, chewing on a bone in an effort to avoid conversation.
"Are you pregnant yet?" was his most common question. Each time, she explained to him that she would not know for almost a moon, and each time he would pester her to mate again, only for her to protest that she wasn't in heat.
"You have to wait. I have to be in heat to have kits," Yellowfang explained for the third time that moon.
"We could try anyway," he said. Not for the first time either.
"That's not mating. That's for fun." She sighed. "It won't make a difference."
"Why aren't you in heat then, if you're not pregnant?" he demanded.
"Because that's how it works!" she hissed. "Go bother another she-cat if you're that desperate." She regretted her words as soon as they were out.
Instead of stalking off as usual, Raggedpelt held her gaze. "You're the one who wants kits," he spat.
"For StarClan!"
"If StarClan wants kits like you claim, they should make you stay in heat until you achieve it."
Her fur began to rise along her back. "Or perhaps you should have listened when your mentor taught you about mating," she snapped. "I can't do anything about it. StarClan clearly doesn't want to either. We simply have to wait!"
"Fine, wait then!" He lashed his tail. "But don't come mewling at my paws when you need me next."
"Rest assured - I won't."
"I'm pregnant."
Sagewhisker's head jerked up. She turned to her, eyes wide. Not in joy. Yellowfang wished she saw joy there.
"That's good news," the old medicine cat purred. "We'll need to prepare for the half-moon."
"Why? What's different?" She sat down, her belly aching under the strain of carrying the kits.
"It's common for carriers to make the trip to the Moonstone and birth kits there at a half-moon meeting. Some stay in a nest by the Moonstone until the kits are delivered. Sometimes it's even the first half-moon after kits are felt that the kitting begins. You've felt kicks?"
"How else would I know I'm pregnant?" She hadn't learned yet how to detect pregnancy in others, and recognising the signs hadn't been top of her priority. Not with the complaining Raggedpelt had done, or the accusing glances of her Clanmates.
Sagewhisker spent some time explaining the fundamentals of caring for herself during her pregnancy. Top of the list was avoiding stress, yet as twilight approached Yellowfang crossed the camp to find Raggedpelt.
He sat with Foxheart, their heads close together. They stopped talking as they sensed her approach.
"I'm pregnant," she announced with ease despite the twisting in her belly.
Raggedpelt looked her over. "Then you got what you wanted."
Her eyes narrowed. "So did you."
"They're not really my kits though, are they? They won't stay in ShadowClan. Or if they do, they'll only be medicine cats." Beside him, Foxheart snorted. "They'll never be warriors. Didn't you tell me that?"
She hadn't, but she didn't feel like challenging every word he said. "Of course they're your kits. You fathered them."
"Sired them," Foxheart corrected. "Raggedpelt never agreed to be their fathe--"
"What would you know?" Yellowfang spat. "Were you present at every conversation we had? No! Were you there at every mating? No! Has StarClan gifted you with omniscience? Obviously not." Venom dripped from her tongue. "Stay between your own whiskers."
"Don't talk to her like that," Raggedpelt snapped.
Yellowfang took a sharp breath, looking between the two. Foxheart had pressed her body against his, connecting them. Their scent drifted as one.
She had lost him, she realised, yet the pain in her heart was nothing now. As she turned away, she felt a dull kick within her.
"We don't need him, little ones," she whispered, bending her neck to speak only to them. "I'm here for you. I'll always love you."
The pains began at twilight on the night of the second half-moon. Yellowfang slipped from the camp, covering her tracks to avoid being followed as she made her way out between the pines. By midnight she couldn't go any further, leaving her to curl up within a tree stump, pain pulsing through her body.
The stars twinkled above her and she found herself glaring at them.
"Take it easy."
Yellowfang looked to her side sharply, her eyes resting on the spectral figure of her kin - Silverflame.
"I'm here with you." Silverflame pressed her nose to the medicine cat's forehead. Despite the transparency of her body, the touch felt warm.
"I'm... scared," she confessed.
"I know. I'm here to guide you."
One by one, she pushed kits from her body, biting their sacs and licking them over. Three kits. Each nursed at her belly as the pain finally abated.
"What happens now?" she whispered, gazing at the tiny bodies.
"You'll nurse them," Silverflame explained. "On their sixth moon, you will bring them to the Moonstone, where StarClan will decide which Clan they'll go to."
The desire to keep them at her teats was incredible. "Even ShadowClan?"
"No. Not ShadowClan." The words were light but punctured a hole in her heart. Three holes, in fact. "A medicine cat cannot care more for one cat than they can for the whole of their Clan."
"Then why have me have kits at all?" she demanded.
"Sacrifices must be made by all medicine cats. Sooner or later." Silverflame's eyes dulled with sadness. "You have found that sooner than most."
"I don't want to leave my kits. I'd sooner keep them. They should be with me." Despite her insistence, she knew that her argument was fruitless.
Silverflame licked her cheek. It felt as though she were really there. "I know. But you can't. Before Brightflower was born, I carried for the medicine cat tradition myself. I was young... it was my first litter. Redthistle guided me, as I guided you, and I loved each kit at my belly. Only one survived." She sighed. "Chiveclaw. The night I said goodbye was the hardest experience I ever had. Even dying."
"You weren't a medicine cat," Yellowfang burst out. "Why did Redthistle choose you? She should have been the carrier!"
"Redthistle was the carrier. She chose me to carry her kits."
Understanding crossed her mind but her heart still felt wounded. "How can I say goodbye to them?" she whispered. "How did you say goodbye?"
Leaning down, the StarClan spirit touched her nose to the back of each kit. "By remembering their purpose. They will care for their Clanmates as you will. They will be the future of healing across the Clans." She raised her head. "Before you can say goodbye, you must first greet them."
She tilted her head to the side. "Greet them?"
Silverflame paused for a long moment, then once again touched each kit on their back. This time, she punctuated each touch with a name. "Lavenderkit." The grey she-kit. "Lilackit." The grey tabby she-kit. "Splinterkit." The dark brown tabby tom-kit. "Welcome to the Clans."
Yellowfang couldn't bring herself to say anything at all. They were not the names of her kits.
There were six moons where Yellowfang embraced motherhood. She nursed her kits. She watched them grow. She told them of the mighty Clans and all the tales she could remember. They even helped her sort herbs.
All too soon, the sixth moon beckoned.
Sagewhisker had explained how they would bring the kits to the Moonstone and how StarClan would choose which Clan would take each of her kits. The thought distressed her. Each time she thought of it she buried it deep within.
It became apparent quickly that Lilackit was the loudest and most confident kit, her tail held high as she pranced about the camp. In comparison, Lavenderkit looked meek and quiet, but her oldest kit had her own strengths, like her pounce. She would have made a good warrior. Splinterkit was the most perplexing of the litter. He didn't sit back and let his sisters take up all her time. He had his own needs and he took them as he felt he must. His determination to have things his way concerned her but she loved him all the same.
Raggedpelt visited on occasion, though they were few and far between. He played with the kits as if they were warrior apprentices, regaling them with his patrols and the battles he fought.
Each time he visited the nursery, she felt herself hate him just a little more.
When the time came, Raggedpelt blocked their way from leaving camp. "Where are you taking them?" he demanded.
Sagewhisker stepped forwards while Yellowfang swept her tail around the three kits. "It is time for StarClan to show their paths. They will become medicine cats of the other Clans. As I explained."
"No. Splinterkit is no medicine cat! He's meant to be a warrior. Look at him!"
The kit puffed out his chest.
As much as Yellowfang wanted to keep her kits close to her, she knew this was a fight she couldn't win. She had tried for six moons to battle StarClan on her own. Raggedpelt was nothing compared to them.
"Splinterkit will be a medicine cat. Nothing you say will change that," she snapped. "Now move."
Raggedpelt stared her down. "I won't let you take my kits from me."
"Your kits?" she scoffed. "I carried them. I birthed them. The most you've done is boast to them! Now move." Her claws slid out, holding his gaze.
After long, tense heartbeats, he lashed his tail and stepped aside. "I won't forget this."
"Try not to forget your kits either," she said coldly, urging the kits forward to follow Sagewhisker.
The journey to the Moonstone felt longer than ever. Lilackit and Lavenderkit were in high spirits, exploring first the edge of ShadowClan territory before taking on the Thunderpath. Once they were past it, the two could hardly breathe for talking.
Splinterkit was more subdued.
"What's wrong?" Yellowfang asked.
He hung his head. "I... I do want to be a warrior. I want to be brave and strong like Raggedpelt!"
"You can be brave and strong without being a warrior," she meowed. How could she tell her kit that his destiny was as hers had been? She couldn't give him false hope. Not like she'd given herself. "Your Clan will depend on you far more than any ordinary warrior."
"I want to battle, not heal!" Splinterkit turned to her, frustration gleaming in his eyes.
"You will still train like a warrior," she told him. "But you'll be more than that. A medicine cat is the most powerful cat in any Clan."
That he seemed to consider. She wondered just how much he understood.
They had reached the cave. She looked at her kits, then her mentor. Sagewhisker flicked her ear before moving away, giving them the space they needed.
Yellowfang turned to her litter. "You are all very brave," she told them, a firmness to her voice to mask the sadness. "I love each of you, and I will always love you, but it is a medicine cat's duty to put the care of others first. I know you will do your Clans proud. You..." Her voice cracked. "You will be the best medicine cats they've ever seen. I believe in you."
Lilackit blinked up at her. "I love you too!" Lavenderkit echoed the sentiment, though was more reserved than expected.
Splinterkit said nothing, his eyes burning.
"May StarClan guide you all." She couldn't say it. Just one word. All she had to say was 'goodbye', but she couldn't possibly. She couldn't abandon her kits.
They laid around the Moonstone, their noses pressed against cold stone.
In the starlit forest of Silverpelt, the three kits stood in the middle of a clearing. Yellowfang stood on the outskirts with her fellow medicine cats.
"Lavenderkit," said an unknown cat stepping from the shadows. "You will join RiverClan as Lavenderpaw. Learn all that you can to care for your Clanmates."
Another cat stepped forwards. "Lilackit, you will join WindClan as Lilacpaw. May you care for your Clan well."
Yellowfang watched a third cat step out. Part of her willed StarClan to send Splinterkit back to ShadowClan to learn beside her. Of course, they wouldn't.
In the shadows, she saw Silverflame watching as well.
"Splinterkit, you are now Splinterpaw of ThunderClan. Protect your Clan with knowledge, not might."
She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch any more.